Charon
by JennMel
Summary: Suzie lied. She had told them the only thing waiting for them was the darkness. But it was Jack's fault. He cheated. Death for Owen and Tosh, for Torchwood, is a lie. A lie realised only when each of them take a breath after their last.
1. Chapter 1

Author Notes: Okay, this is what came into being by me refusing to accept the outcome of Exit Wounds, and so will contain **spoilers** for all of Torchwood, and up through past the end of season 4 of Doctor Who. I couldn't bare the idea of losing two of that team, so this story sort of mutated out of that, and a concept my beta ChemicalNova put me on to concerning Suzie.

WARNING: This is the darkest fic I have ever written. It most definitely deserves its T rating. There will be themes of death, torture, emotional trauma and rape. This is not written with the edited version of Torchwood and its audience in mind, so please be aware of this before you read. There is nothing graphic, but it is definitely pretty creepifying, or at least, as much as I could make it!

That said, I own nothing, and I hope you all enjoy!

**Charon**

Chapter 1

If Owen could appreciate irony anymore, perhaps this situation would have taken first prize. But he couldn't. How could he? This wasn't like Jack, but it was not like him either.

Jack lived forever.

Owen was going to die forever.

But this? This was so, so much more.

Beyond the black, _beyond _the darkness.

Suzie had lied. His senses had lied. But, hell, how he wished he could remain in the blissful _knowledge_ of nothingness after death.

But he was Torchwood.

Toshiko was Torchwood.

And Suzie...She was Torchwood too.

Along with all the others. All those so many brave souls who had to pay the price. Those who all had two things in common.

Torchwood.

Jack.

Because Death does not like the outcome of Life.

It holds no affection for the soul that came within its grasp, that keeps falling towards it, only to be continuously dragged back by one glimmer of light that holds no place in its domain.

So it cheated.

Instead of brooding in the pitch, it created its own light. Its own, twisted, screaming light, borne of the Rift that permeates its being.

So Owen did not die forever. Because when that radiation had melted the shell of his consciousness, Death finally got his soul, and he joined the mangled pile.

His death had not been painful. But his new life had been excruciating.

As he had watched his body dissolve, boil and break apart, his last thoughts had been of the unfairness of it all, and of Tosh, and those others he would leave behind. But as the last glimmer of words had formed in his mind, a sudden pain had electrified his whole being, and he was gasping, for the first time in months, desperately, pathetically trying to draw breath into newly formed lungs, crying unconsciously in pain and confusion as the unfamiliar oxygen scorched the brand new lung tissue and sent fire into nerves he had forgotten he had.

He had lain, shaking, crying and naked, clawing at the grated metal floor, his eyes blurry and confused as colours assaulted his senses and his brain refused to accept reality.

And then all had snapped into focus, but this had only made him plead for the promised oblivion, as he had done ever since.

The film of white, taunt over dead irises, unblinking as it had examined him with unseeing eyes. That hand, skin of paper, translucent and stretched, burning the mark into his neck, ignoring him as his crying mutated into echoing screams. A number. 565.

They never spoke. Never said a word.

They had left her to deal with him. The bitch who had gambled against them, and was paying the price with what remained of her humanity. Suzie.

It was she who had told him where they were. It was more than Hell, because they were not truly dead. They belonged to these beings with no name, the creatures of Death who took the price of the bounty, who took that price in pain, blood and screams. The price they all paid for Jack's life.

Suzie had tried to run away. She had planted a way for her to return to life, before she had even known of the 'death' that awaited her when she had placed that gun to her throat. But Jack had stopped her, they had got Gwen back, and Suzie had been sent back to _this_.

The Shadow waiting in the Darkness.

And so now she would pay for eternity. Their servant. Her mangled body and soul would do their bidding against those she would once have called friends, colleagues, lovers; all those Jack had unwittingly abandoned to this fate.

But Owen had accepted he was going to die forever, and so when he had awoken in his cell filled next to wretched living skeletons, huddled in the rags Suzie had thrown at him to cover his new _living _body, he had accepted this new fate. This new place, a blending of earth and metal, of blood and screams and the forsaken.

Until he found out one of the few people he trusted had lied to him. That she had been pretending, just for him.

Barely sure of his movements, he had reached forwards, fingers curling around dripping strands of obsidian hair, brushing it out of her eyes and away from her neck as another angry red and black number burnt brightly against her skin. And she had stared back at him, communicating the same shock and confusion, fear and pain. And remorse. Remorse for the lie she had told him.

And now he cared. Now he refused to accept his fate, because to accept what was in store for him would be to accept what was in store for her.

Owen Harper and Toshiko Sato; the dead who were now alive. Kept alive. Kept alive to pay the price.

They had joined their predecessors. Those who had found Torchwood too much, and had taken their own lives. Those who had been killed by their job, or worse, killed by those who they shared a job with.

And so it had begun. Every burnt sunrise. Every night of suffocated stars. On and on, time with no meaning on an alien planet. Owen now understood how those people taken by the Rift had steadily lost their minds in the black.

Two coins to pay the boatman.

Two more souls to pay in the stead of another.

To Be Continued...

Author Notes: First chapter is a bit short, I know, but I just wanted to throw it out there. What do you think? I'll try and get the next chapter up as soon as possible, but until then, I'd love to here any thoughts!


	2. Chapter 2

Author Notes: Thanks to those who reviewed, it's great to get feedback, and thanks to those who just took the time to read! Here's the next chapter!

Chapter 2

Cold fingers snaked their way around his arm as Toshiko unconsciously curled into him while she slept. Owen, on the other hand couldn't sleep. All he could do was watch those _things_. They would wait at the doorway, picking who they wanted to play with for the next day or so, sending Suzie in to collect them. Owen didn't know what he hated more; the tortured screams of the people as they struggled, knowing what was coming next, or the lifeless reactions of those who had been here too long. Owen did not know what happened beyond their compound, and neither did Tosh; he had a horrible feeling their hosts were actively building their sense of dread. It was working.

But the day had come. That shrivelled white finger pointed through the bars at him as if it was an entity all on its own. Relieved whimpers permeated the air, and he heard Tosh's barely audible moan. But she was strong. He hoped.

Refusing to give Suzie the satisfaction, Owen rose to meet her, repressing a shudder as she grasped his arm in a way so unlike Tosh had, pulling him away. He was guided out of the stinking room, and they followed the gliding creature of white. Owen tried to keep track of the facility, but found it impossible. Corridors that led nowhere, paths that snaked and looped across themselves time over time and doorways that fell into nothing. He shivered. This was all just so _wrong_.

They came to an abrupt halt, and Owen found himself forced to his knees in a blinding white room that stung his eyes as they desperately tried to acclimatise to the light. The room showed up every speck of black on his skin, every tear in his clothes, and every shadow on Suzie's face. The creature had disappeared. "So, what now?" His voice, spoken loudly, sounded alien and bizarre, having never spoken to Tosh in anything above a whisper since their arrival.

Suzie's face cracked and split, her sunken eyes regarding him with cold distain, "Now they see how fun you are."

"Wha-" His body jerked, as if invisible strings had been holding him upright all this time, and now they had been cut. He could barely raise his head to look at Suzie's feet, which began a steady circling.

"So, Owen. How _did _you die in the end? I heard you got shot, and I got _so _excited with the prospect of seeing you again, but then Jack tore you back to life. They were not pleased, I can tell you. I would be thankful, if I were you, that they do not hold you accountable, or you would have ended up like me."

"Yeah, how is the whole Servant of Death thing working out for you?" Owen bit out.

"You could not think to comprehend." Was all she had as a reply, before continuing, "Well? If it was not a bullet, then what? It must have been spectacular to get you down here under the influence of that glove. And at the same time as sweet little Tosh; now _that _was an efficient gunshot."

"If you know so much, then find out for yourself."

She sighed, "Still stubborn I see. We'll have to fix that."

And then Owen screamed. He was not in pain. He was not angry, or scared, or any other of the multitude of feelings and emotions that might have made him scream under any circumstance. No. It was worse that if his body had been set aflame. His mouth had just opened of its own accord, and sound had begun vibrating through his throat. He was soon trying desperately to gasp for air, to regain control. Tears gathered in his eyes as his lungs heaved against the pressure. And then as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. He slumped to the floor, muscles shaking.

Suzie crouched in front of him, taloned fingers grasping at his hair, forcing him to meet her eyes, "You are our puppet. Remember that. While you are here, you are subject to the body we made for you. It is not yours to control, and trust me when I say that there are so many more things we can do to you than inflict physical pain."

She let go, and he fell forwards, barely catching himself. Anger swelled in his throat, "You think I give a shit? I was practically a fucking zombie after Jack brought me back! This is just hell in a different form for me!"

"Oh, come now Owen, we both know that isn't true. Admittedly, I can't imagine you handling the situation particularly well at first, but I'm sure after a while you would have acclimatised yourself to the situation and used it to yours and _Jack's_," she spat the name in his face, "advantage."

"You don't know me, Suzie."

"Really? Then how about we try a new game? If our conventional methods will not work on you, then how about on Tosh? How about you learn the fine art of watching?"

And Owen replied in the worst way, "Don't you dare touch her! I'll kill you!"

Suzie laughed a breathless laugh, "I am already dead, Owen." She paused, before examining him closely, "Although I did not expect this from you. Toshiko never seemed your type."

"What?" Owen's tone turned cold. He wasn't sure where this was going, and he didn't like it.

"Well, Gwen, my quaint little replacement, I could understand, but Tosh?" She laughed again, "How sweet, Owen, you've actually grown up. Pity you always seem to do it at the wrong moments; first Katie, then Diane, now little Tosh. And yes, being dead does not mean that I miss out on these little scraps of information. You actually _care!_"

"Shut it."

"Succinct as ever. But let me let you into a little secret." She leaned forwards so that her falsely glossed lips grazed his ear, "I don't share my toys."

Owen's entire being froze as she pulled back and placed a delicate kiss on his temple. His heart pounded in his ears, and he used all his strength to jerk away from her, "Don't touch me." He inwardly cringed at how weak it sounded.

Suzie cupped his chin in her hand, "Maybe we should leave Toshiko to later, hmm? I've missed you Owen. Remember how good we were together?"

"I was grieving for Katie and you fucking know it! You're the one who lured _me_, not the other way around!" Venom laced his words, the truth spoken aloud for the first time, as he tried to wrench from her grip, failing miserably as it refused to relinquish.

She laughed, "True, very true, but you cannot deny it was fun."

"_Fun?_ You were a fucking psycho in life, let alone when you came back, and don't even get me started on this new and improved you!"

Her smile widened, eyes skimming leeringly over his skin, "Again, very true. Do I still scare you Owen?"

Owen exploded, "What do you want, Suzie? What do those freaks want with us? I don't give a flying shyte about Jack's immortality – it's not our fault!"

"Sshhh." She placed a finger against his lips, and his throat seized up, unable to continue. And then a wave of horror and disgust crested over him, drenching him cold. He suddenly knew. "You forget what I told you, Owen. Your body belongs to us, and it is such a wonderful path into your mind."

Weakly, he pulled away, attempting to crawl backwards into the stark white walls, but suddenly his body was no longer listening to his commands, and he became an observer, aware only of images, sounds and sensations as lips crashed into his, suffocating him as teeth sunk harshly into his lip, causing blood to trickle in a metallic river down his throat.

He did not regain control of his body until like a broken doll he was thrown down in the cell next to Tosh, shivering from something other than the cold, stomach rebelling, but only eliciting acid. He tried to explain to her, he tried to warn her, but she was torn away too soon.

He curled into himself on the inhospitable floor, silent tears finally able to be free from his eyes, trying to ignore what was happening in that white room right now. He both hated Jack and wished so dearly that he would come save them, but he knew it was futile.

Instead he made a promise.

Somehow, by whatever means, by whatever pain, he would get Toshiko out of here. Even if it meant that the only way out would break the cardinal rule of his oath as a doctor, he would get her out of this hell. She was too good for this.

He swore it, but it would take sixty eight more burnt sunrises before his promise could be made true. Sixty nine more nights of suffocated stars, keeping each other sane, before he would get his chance.

To Be Continued...

Author Notes: Well, I did say it would be dark! Love to hear what you thought of it!


	3. Chapter 3

Author Notes: Thanks for the support! A special guest star in this chapter :P

Chapter 3

However much she tried to hold up appearances, however much she tried to pretend, Owen could see right through her. He could never be blind to her; he had learnt that the hard, painful way, all that time ago, when they had been alive. While Tosh was still so good at hiding from Owen, keeping strong for his sake, just as she had done when they were dying in tandem, Suzie was not. Perhaps it was his utter, soul-deep loathing of her, or maybe it was just because they were so alike, but he knew she was hiding behind a mask of strength and command, just as he was hiding behind a mask of brokenness and defeat. He could keep going that little while longer. He had made a promise, he had to.

So when that crack in her façade had shone through, he had taken his chance, dragging Toshiko with him.

* * *

"Don't you ever think that maybe you're just asking for it when you do this?" Donna stood, hands on hips as she regained her footing in a once more stable Tardis.

"What?" The Doctor looked at her in blank confusion.

"Making the Tardis do this random google search on time and space. It _might_ just be me, but every time you've done that, we've always ended up in life or death situations!" she let the rant echo around the Tardis. She didn't mean to be harsh, but hey, it was the truth – just look at the Ood fiasco.

"Oh." He looked suitably contrite, "So...do you want to go somewhere else?"

Donna rolled her eyes, whacking him lightly on the arm as she made her way towards the door, "Don't be so sensitive. Will I be needing a coat this time?" She opened the doors, only to be greeted by a blast of heat as the scorching air rushed past her. She quirked an eyebrow, "Apparently not."

The Doctor followed her out, shrugging his coat onto his shoulders, apparently oblivious to the temperature, "Nice place." He scanned over the strange facility they had ended up in, closing the door.

"Oh, I hope that was a little Timelord humour shining through there. What is it with you and dumps like this?" Nevertheless, Donna began to make her way down a passage chosen at random, the initial fear she had held in situations like this when she had first started travelling only a small niggling in the back of her mind.

The Doctor shivered involuntarily, running to catch up, unexplained urgency lacing his tone, "Donna! Wait!"

"What? See anyone? Any_thing_?"

The Doctor grasped her by the arm, "I think you're right, maybe we should go somewhere else."

"What are you on about? Know something I don't?" This wasn't like him, and they both knew it.

"No...yes...I don't know." He raked a hand through his hair, as was his habit when nervous.

"Well make up your mind!" A clunk echoed through the halls, from apparently every, yet no direction at the same time. "What was that?"

"Donna, we should get back to the Tardis." The Doctor's voice had dropped to a whisper, a note of an emotion rarely heard skimming underneath the words, "There's something...wrong about this place. Something that should not be. And in all the times I've encountered situations like this, they never end well. I don't want you mixed up in that. Come on."

Donna analysed his face, looking into his eyes for the truth in the words, and slowly nodded. She loved travelling with him, and she trusted him with her life, but sometimes the situations they landed themselves in got out of control, and if the Timelord was feeling out of his depth barely ten minutes out of the Tardis, then who was she to argue?

But before they had moved a step, the air was suddenly alive, the walls wailing in an electric anger, and they heard footsteps, running, pounding towards them. The Tardis was too far behind them, and whatever the feelings were that had spooked the Doctor in the first place only seemed to have heightened. Before Donna knew it, he had grabbed her around the middle and forcibly pulled her to the floor into a small shadowy alcove, hidden from view, created by the millennia of decay and destruction that seemed to seep from the floor.

* * *

Owen ran and ran and ran, his fingers never releasing their tenuous grip on Toshiko's too-thin wrist, guiding her through the maze, at every turn expecting to see one of _them_. The whole facility seemed to have come alive as soon as he had tackled Suzie to the ground and scrambled away from the cell down the corridor not inhabited by her escorting creature. He had timed it well; the new situation after an eternity of monotonous pain amongst the Torchwood men and women had spurred them into a mad frenzy. He knew it would not last long, that they would immobilise them, but he had learnt things in his stay here, as had Tosh. Ever the observant one, she had noted that Suzie's puppet-master powers were only at their strongest in those white rooms.

He had no idea where he was going, but he knew how this was going to end if he could not find them the way out. In his mind he had formed two options, and he had a feeling Toshiko had come to the same conclusion. Either they found the room where they were 'made', and somehow managed to locate the connection to the Rift that linked Cardiff's Torchwood to this _place_, or they died. He knew this would be the only chance they would get, and he was _not_ going to watch Toshiko break apart like those skeletal humans in their cell.

A weak cry from behind, and then he stumbled as the wrist in his hand pulled him back. "Tosh?" His voice was a hoarse whisper, raw from the abuse over the months. He licked his cracked lips as a trickle of blood welled in the valleys of dry skin, falling to his knees beside her unmoving body. She had fallen from exhaustion, her smaller form unable to cope with the sudden exertion after so much time of wasting away. "Toshiko, Tosh, please! You have to get up! I can't carry you." A dry sob caught in his throat, sending him into a coughing fit, "_Please!_"

"Donna!" A frantic hiss, and Owen whirled around, futilely attempting to shield Toshiko's still body from view. His eyes widened in shock as two humans, two clean, healthy, _unmarked_ humans stepped towards them, the man trying to hold the woman back, while she approached slowly, her hands held in a placating gesture. "Donna, don't." There was finality in his tone, but she ignored him, sinking to her knees a foot or so away from him, clearly aware of his skittish state, but equally aware that whoever they were, they were in trouble, and needed help.

"It's okay, my name's Donna. We're not really from around here. You don't have to worry – we're not going to hurt you."

The cynical side of Owen, the Torchwood side, marvelled at the naivety of the woman; he could be an escaped convict for all she knew. But the scared, overriding element in him could only nod, "You're human?" He didn't recognise them, and they didn't look like Suzie; no aura to taint their shadows.

The woman, Donna, nodded, "Yeah, more or less. I'm from Earth, he's-"

Owen never bothered to find out where her friend was from, "Earth? You're from Earth?" The wailing ceased, and he visibly cringed. He had made a promise. To ask for both of them would be too much, but to ask for one... "Please, you have to take her! You have to take her home! She doesn't belong here!" Before Donna knew what was happening, the desperate human before her was taking her hand, and placing it on the shoulder of the small woman he was trying to protect.

The Doctor bent down to try and stop the exchange, his senses thrumming with an oncoming darkness. He knew it did not come from these two, but it was coming, and he had to get Donna out. And then he saw the woman's face. It took him a moment, as it was different, older, out of place, but he remembered it, from London, a lifetime ago. The woman was from Earth, not this unnatural planet. She was as much his responsibility as Donna. The impossibility of the situation was interrupted by a voice from behind them, a cajoling, falsely sweet call, "Owen! Toshiko! Come on, don't be so shy!"

The one called Owen shuddered, and made to rise, but Donna grabbed his thin arm, "What about you?"

He didn't seem to be listening, "Please, take her home, please, you have to take her home!" It seemed to be a mantra for him, and relief shone in his eyes as the mysterious quiet man in the coat gently lifted Toshiko's inhumanly light body into his arms. And then Owen collapsed back to the floor, fingers scrapping almost involuntarily at the floor, tearing his fingernails into bloody shreds as he looked imploringly up at them, gasping out a word, "Hide!"

Donna did not want to leave him, but the Doctor gave her no choice as he stole around the corner, gently placing the woman on the floor, peeking back. Donna flattened herself against the wall behind him, listening intently.

The Doctor frowned, his instincts suddenly screaming at him, berating him, asking him why he had left the second human, "I'm so sorry." The whisper of a breath escaped his lips as a shadow floated down the corridor towards Owen. A woman, human by appearance, but something more. A second shadow flitted at the corner of his vision, but it was too far away, drawing away from the interaction, observing. "Honestly, Owen, didn't Jack teach you _anything_ about manners? There was no need to get physical." The woman smiled suggestively down at the shivering form, brushing at a barely forming bruise on her cheek.

Owen snorted, "He encouraged the shooting of bastard freaks like you. When you become worth saving, Suzie, I'll be sure to write you an apology."

She rolled her eyes. The Doctor tensed at the exchange, silently praying the name had been a coincidence, "Torchwood to the core, his little prodigies of his new age. I remember when I used to be one of them. Now where is the other?" She sighed in annoyance, "What have you done with Toshiko, Owen? The longer she is missing, the worse the retribution they will inflict."

"Go fuck yourself and your freaks." Owen spat at her, refusing to back down even when he could barely feel his limbs.

She smiled again, and the Doctor's spine crawled. She bent down, grasping Owen's shoulder hard enough to make him cry out, "Thank you for the charming advice, sweetheart, but I'd _much _rather fuck you."

The Doctor closed his eyes as he pressed his back to the wall, unable to watch as the woman dragged Owen away, guilt seeping into his core. One more life.

When the footsteps had faded, he turned to Donna, who was silently stroking Toshiko's hair, tears gathering in her eyes, but never falling; the Doctor remembered a time when they had. Plans forming already in his overactive mind, the Timelord scooped the woman up, and led the way back to the Tardis, placed her gently down on one of the long seats as soon as they were inside. "We have to go back." Donna's voice came from behind him.

"No." His voice was flat, but thrummed with anger as he shrugged off his coat, and began adjusting the controls.

"_What?_" Donna spat, her protest echoing in the silence, "We just _left _him there! If you're not going to try and fix things like you normally do, you could at least do this! You heard that...that _woman_!"

He regarded her coolly, and she shut her mouth, "I am going to fix this, but to do that, I need to know what's going on."

"Then what..?"

"This Toshiko, and Owen, they work for a man I know. They should _not_ be here, and yet they are. I need to know why. And Jack needs to know, because there's no way he would have knowingly abandoned them here." He looked down on the unconscious form of the woman, so small against the setting of the Tardis, and yet already glowing with the new light of the vortex, "We're going to Cardiff."

To Be Continued...

Author Notes: What did you think? I know Donna's not that popular, but I needed her for it to fit in with the timeline.


	4. Chapter 4

Author Notes: Thank you to all those who reviewed! It's nice to know Donna isn't universally hated. And thanks to mysterypoet66 for the useful advice!

Chapter 4

"Thanks Ianto." Jack smiled up at the Welshman as he was handed his morning coffee. His reply was only a wan smile; it had been a month since Jack had lost half of those he had promised to protect, and none of them had recovered. Today was worse, and Ianto clearly knew it. Today would be the day Jack would start looking for replacements, because there was no way they could continue on the way they were. "Gwen in yet?"

Ianto nodded, "Just arrived. We haven't got any urgent business to attend, so she's checking over some old police reports, looking for anything strange. If that's all sir?"

Jack was hard-pressed to stop the sigh from escaping his lips. If anything, they had all grown further apart since they had lost Owen and Tosh. Shaking his head in response, he took a sip of his coffee, before rising from his desk. Jack wound his way aimlessly though the Hub, mentally going over the potential employee files he had acquired over the week, but each one was never as strong as Owen, or as imaginative as Tosh. They had been his first recruits in his attempt to rebuild Torchwood, and although he had been forced to replace Suzie, the situation had hardly been similar.

Wind rippled his dark hair, causing him to pause in his thoughts, glancing up instinctively, expecting to see a low-flying pterodactyl, but nothing. And then he heard it, ever so softly, like a whisper at the back of his mind. If he hadn't known, it would have simply brushed by his consciousness, but he did. A smile spread across his face, "I'll be right back!" He yelled over his shoulder to Gwen, out of the Hub before she could protest.

Unlike the last time, he didn't run, only walked purposefully. He no longer needed answers. Sure enough, there it was, that old ridiculously conspicuous, yet utterly unnoticeable machine, and out stepped the man he had searched so long for. Jack frowned. The Doctor's face was grim, only offering him a courtesy smile as Jack approached and embraced his friend.

And then Jack noticed someone else; a woman. He smiled, "You must be Donna. Captain Jack Harkness at your service."

The woman looked surprised, but reined her emotions well, "How did you..?"

"Doctor Martha Jones and I keep in touch – I think you met a while back, set the sky on fire?" He shrugged, "Gotta keep a close eye on those UNIT blokes. Never know what they're going to get up to next."

The Doctor made a sound of agreement, before setting his shoulders. A bad feeling was settling in Jack's stomach; neither were acting like this was a social visit, "Why don't you come in, Jack?"

"What's going on?" Jack's voice dropped dangerously low, and the Doctor had to suppress a wince. Something had definitely happened since they had last parted ways, because Jack was far too on edge for it still to have been residual wariness from the Master.

"I have something of yours." The Doctor's words were mysterious at best, and then he moved aside, giving Jack a clear view of the tiny body curled up on the Tardis' worn seats.

Both Donna and the Doctor were silent, unsure of how Jack would react. They watched as he moved cautiously forward. He bent down to brush a few strands of hair out of the woman's face and swallowed tightly, "I'm sorry, Doctor, you've got the wrong time, she-"

But what she was, the Doctor didn't find out, as the woman stirred at the words spoken right up close to her, and opened her eyes. Jack blanched; Suzie had been bad enough, but not Toshiko, please no. He couldn't talk to her, she didn't belong in his time, not anymore. "Jack?"

Torchwood's leader had to hide his reaction at the heart-wrenching combination of hope and desolation that laced his friend's voice. Before he could explain to her, however, she had thrown her arms tight around him, a dry sob escaping into his neck. Reluctantly he returned the hug, knowing that as long as Ianto and Gwen didn't see her before the Doctor returned her to the proper time, it would be okay. "Hey Tosh." He whispered the meaningless words that suddenly said so much more.

Finally, Jack was forced to pull out of the contact. He smiled weakly at her, stroking his thumb over her cheek, before twisting to face the Doctor, "You've got the wrong time – she doesn't belong here."

The Doctor frowned at Jack's words. He knew that statement was false; the Tardis would never miss aim on something like this. The woman seemed to find those words just as strange, "Jack? What's going on? We're home! I don't know how but we are. What are you talking about?"

Jack tried to stop her as she struggled to her feet, eyes taking in every detail of the Tardis. He noticed how thin she was, and the clothes she wore; as tired and bedraggled as the empty look in her eyes. Doubt began to form – when had his Tosh ever looked like that in all the time she had known him? The Doctor stepped forwards as Toshiko moved to stand beside Jack, surprisingly sure footed, "Donna and I sort of...stumbled across you. Your friend asked us to take you home, so we did. We-"

"What?" Toshiko's eyes had widened, suddenly darting frantically around her, as if searching for something she could not find. "Where is he?" The words were barely a murmur, her voice engulfed by her rising terror.

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. We didn't have time. I couldn't..." The Doctor faltered, knowing already that words would not be enough.

"You left him?" Her voice had gained a sudden power, frosting the air, her eyes fixed unmoving from the Doctor. "You _left_ him there?" Suddenly she had taken two strides forwards, throwing her smaller form against him, scratching, hitting, punching weakly at his chest, crying out at him. The Doctor held her gently as she released her rightful anger at him, but Jack stepped in, easily lifting her up around the waist, grimacing as he felt her ribs sticking out slightly from her skin, completely bewildered.

"Toshiko! Stop it!" She fell limply in his arms, momentary strength spent, and a sob wracking her frame.

But then she raised her head to stare blankly at the Doctor, emotionless, certain in her words, "The kinder thing to do would have been to kill him."

The Doctor looked upon her with pity and sorrow, "I would never have done that. There's always another way."

Toshiko barked out a half hysterical laugh, "Only those who can never understand death would ever say that. Those lucky ones who do not know what it is like to wish for oblivion with every fibre of your being."

Jack had had enough. He whirled Tosh around to face him, grasping her shoulders tightly, forcing her to look at him, "Tosh, listen to me. I don't know why you think that, but it's not true. It will get better, I promise."

A sneer twisted its way onto Toshiko's face, so unlike her normal expression, as she wrenched away from him, stumbling backwards, "I _died_ Jack! How can things possibly get better? That stupid boy sacrificed his eternity to get me out of there, and now he will steadily cease to be the person I love! He _knew_ he had it the worse out of all of us – _her_ little pet, those _things' _fascination – the human who once held Death itself. So don't you _dare_ tell me it will get better Jack Harkness, because Owen and I both learned the hard way that the only way things can get better is true death in its last form."

Jack had gone incredibly pale, his eyes fixed on the small woman standing in front of him, dry tear tracks snaking their way down her face. "No." It was the only word he could utter, the only one. The uttermost denial.

Donna stood unashamedly gaping at the exchange, whispering to the Doctor, "She was _dead? _What kind of planet was that? I mean, was it, you know, Hell?"

The Doctor's eyes were murky, but he shook his head, accepting the reality of the woman's words for the time being, "How long were you on that planet for, Toshiko?"

Her eyes flicked to his, turning inward for a moment before answering, "I don't know how long it was before we arrived there, but it felt like seconds, and both of us arrived within moments of each other." A bitter smile ghosted across her face as if she was remembering the experience, "Owen kept a count – he thought we had been there a little over two months, but it was hard to tell."

"You've only been dead for a month here." Jack croaked out, his eyes never leaving his dead friend. She was breathing, not a mark on her, not gunshot wound to the stomach – so who the hell was she? Because she couldn't be the woman he had held as she took her last breath.

Donna snorted, "Only? Nice way of phrasing it."

"Donna." The Doctor admonished, before turning to Toshiko, "I promise I will go back for your friend – I will not leave him to them. There is something wrong about that place, and it is my responsibility to find out what. But before we return, I need to know everything, from all of you, starting from when you both...died."

Toshiko nodded sombrely, all energy gone. Jack agreed slowly, "We should go to the Hub. I need to check something. Do you think you're up to it? Gwen and Ianto are there."

"I will be fine, Jack. It would be nice to see them again. To see the Hub." It was not until the four stepped outside that Jack realised that she had missed out the sky from her words.

* * *

Owen huddled into himself, feeling strangely cold as he leant against the over-heated metal imbedded in the rock. Suzie had been more...vindictive than usual. He expected it was because her 'superiors' had punished her. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his fingers into them until he saw stars. No. He was _not_ going to start feeling sorry for her. If he did, he would really start to lose it.

But now Toshiko was gone, safe, home. What else was there? His eyes wandered over to a rocking form of a man. He continually stared off into space, muttering that 'something was coming'. One of the women, one of the more coherent ones, who Owen suspected was one of his immediate predecessors, had named him Alex. Gone mad before he had even died. Lucky guy.

Owen came back to himself, wincing as he looked down at his hands. His right hand was red and raw, covered in scabs and blisters from repeated rubbing and scratching. His left hand was not much better. It was a habit he had fallen to a week or so into their lives here, whether he was thinking, sleeping, anything. Tosh had always brought him out of it, always made him stop; she alone had been able to sooth the hidden memories of his 'sessions' with Suzie away. But she was gone now; all he could do was dwell.

His eyes slid back to Alex, not noticing the habitual action return, not noticing the blood ooze slowly from a torn-away scab, not feeling his fingernails dig deeply into his broken skin, trying to be rid of the nameless thing that clung to him, within him.

Alex's eyes connected with his for a moment, understanding shifting beneath the surface.

Now they were all truly alone.

To Be Continued...

Author Notes: Hope you liked it!


	5. Chapter 5

Author Notes: Thank you for all the kind support and feedback!

Chapter 5

Perhaps the most unsettling thing about this whole situation had been Tosh's reaction upon stepping out of the Tardis. Jack was willing to wager a rather large sum of money that she had to be one of the first people to not even flinch at the over-large inside, and by the Doctor's expression, he was probably right. Perhaps it wouldn't have been as bad if it had been anyone else, but it was _Tosh _for goodness sake. Jack just couldn't get his head round it. "Oh my god..." Gwen's voice shattered his thoughts into a million shards, just like the coffee cup that now decorated the Hub's floor at Gwen's feet. "Jack?" She turned to the only one she could.

Ianto emerged at the commotion, and froze in a mirror image of Gwen. The Doctor shifted awkwardly, the idea of being in another building belonging to Torchwood unsettling old memories, memories that at this moment in time he could do without dwelling on. Donna remained silent, keeping a steady grip on Toshiko's arm as she blinked bleakly around, before allowing her gaze to settle on the two people in front of her, "Hello Gwen, Ianto. How have you been?"

Combined with Jack's placid attitude, it was enough for Gwen. Tears gathered in her eyes, and she strode forwards, tearing Tosh away from Donna and gathering her unresponsive body into a bone-crushing hug. Ianto, Jack had noticed, had tried to hold her back, an aura of disquiet permeating the air around him. A subtle presence at his arm pulled him from his thoughts, telling him that the Doctor needed to get moving. Time to get it together, "Ianto, think you could make some more coffee? Tosh has had a rough time of it lately." Talk about the understatement of the universe, "Gwen, Donna, why don't you guys go with Tosh up to my office?"

Tosh's face was now completely blank, but Gwen seemed not to notice, existing in a delirious state of shock, wonder and happiness. Jack jerked his head at the Doctor, indicating that he should follow, and took the pathway down to the vaults, and the morgue. When he was sure they were alone, he allowed his fear to show to the one man he didn't need to put on a show for, "Tell me everything."

The Doctor winced, "She was on another planet – same time, different world. The Tardis found it for us. I don't...it shouldn't..." Again, the Doctor found himself at a loss, but forged forwards nonetheless, "Toshiko and another called Owen were in trouble. He asked us to take her home, to Earth, and I recognised her from a chance meeting a long time ago in London. I knew she didn't belong there. We hid just as another woman arrived. She took Owen, and I know now that I should have done more to save him, but at the time I couldn't risk changing timelines. I hadn't realised where he was from." He had tried to keep his confusion and tension from his voice, but had a nasty feeling he had failed.

The Doctor frowned, suddenly realising his old companion had stopped moving, "Jack?"

"I'm fine." Jack's voice croaked, echoing in the dank corridor.

The Doctor knew. He knew why his very being had been screaming at him not to leave the other human. He had thought this 'Owen' had been someone Toshiko had met, but that woman had proved him wrong, and here they were. He closed his eyes, "I'm so sorry. If I had known..."

Something in Jack's eyes seemed to die, before he turned away and strode into the morgue, punching in a few codes. His voice was tight when he spoke, never making eye contact, "After you dropped me off, it was back to work as usual. Go into a few tight spots, but hey, that's Torchwood for you. But then Owen was shot. I knew I shouldn't have done it, but there's this glove, and I needed to...I _had to _say goodbye. It was too sudden, too soon since..."

Something clicked in the Doctor's mind, and despite the situation in hand, he growled, "Jack! Have you any idea how many times that sort of technology can go wrong? Those gloves were illegalised by the Shadow Proclamation centuries ago!"

"I know!" Jack spat back, "But I'm human, so I had to try, okay? Besides, something different happened – Owen didn't die again after 30 seconds like we expected...he kinda stuck around."

The Doctor flinched at the connotations of such a situation, "Like you?"

Jack regarded the Timelord closely; he knew how much the idea of Jack's being unsettled his friend, "No. Owen once mentioned how unfair it was – I get to live forever, whereas he would live in death forever."

"What happened?" The Doctor prompted, noting how Jack's eyes immediately clouded over.

"My brother killed them. He shot Toshiko, and Owen died _again _trying to stop the power station from going into the nuclear meltdown he had set."

The Doctor blanched, "Over the _Rift_?"

"Yep." Jack snorted sardonically, "Ain't ya glad for Torchwood now?"

A light on the wall changed colour, and Jack unlocked one of the doors, pulling out a body-bag on a metal table. Gently, he unzipped the top, mind already telling him what he was going to see. "How is this possible?" The softly spoken voice came from behind them, a light lilt to the words. Jack winced, turning to face Ianto instead of looking down at Toshiko's body for another moment.

Jack could only shrug helplessly, while to Doctor leaned against the metal wall, eyes fixed on the lifeless form in front of him, mentally creating patterns, links, associations, desperately trying to find reason. And then it clicked. "The Rift took her."

Jack and Ianto blinked away from their eye contact, "Excuse me?" Ianto regarded the strange man with confusion.

"It took both of them." The sonic screwdriver had appeared, passed first over Toshiko's body, and then over some of the other compartments, "Jack, how many of your operatives are in here?"

"Too many," was his blunt reply.

"Then if I'm right, there were a lot more on that planet than Owen and Toshiko. Despite the deceased state of these bodies, they practically radiate Rift energy. All your people have been working in this Hub – directly over the tear. They absorbed it, enough to..." He trailed off, and Jack was not comforted by the sudden look of revulsion that crossed the Doctor's face, before he covered it over, "It's why the glove worked differently on Owen. Death takes on a whole new meaning, no wonder that place was so _wrong._"

"That still doesn't explain why I'm standing here, and lying there at the same time." Tosh was standing, framed by a shocked Gwen and Donna, who shrugged half-apologetically at the Doctor, "Or why all the others were. They made us new bodies but our minds were the same. How?"

"Absorption works both ways. You absorbed the Rift energy, and in turn, the Rift absorbed you, your personal genetic makeup, memories, and experiences. Although why this manifested in that place I can't begin to tell you." The Doctor looked helpless, uncharacteristic apprehension marring his normally enthusiastic features.

Toshiko nodded placidly, "That was the one thing we could never work out. We knew why we were being punished, we knew what was going on, and why it was us, but I could never work out _how_." She quirked a half smile as she walked past Ianto to stand near Jack, looking down at her corpse with a sick sort of interest, "Owen told me it was a stupid thing to dwell on. It was what it was, and nothing would change that."

Jack and the Doctor exchanged looks. Jack especially was disturbed by this new side of Tosh. She had never been this cold, this...blank. The Doctor was the one to break the uneasy silence, "Why were you there?"

"She told us all it was because Death was angry and wanted revenge." Jack had to hide a grimace as she absently brushed some hair out of the face of her own dead body, "There were these creatures, or aliens I suppose, who made sure we were punished – all of Torchwood Cardiff – but they always preferred to watch while _she_ did it instead."

"What were you being punished for, Toshiko?" It seemed only the Doctor could keep his voice neutral and steady, the others only able to listen in revulsion.

"Jack. She told us it was because Death would never get Jack, so it took us to play with instead."

A sob escaped Gwen, while Jack looked like he was back on the Valiant such was his horror. The Doctor closed his eyes in an attempt to reign in his anger. He had known as soon as Rose had did what she did that the consequences would be dire, but what had he done? He had run away, just like he always did, and now so many were paying the price. Ianto regarded Tosh with all the strength he could muster, "Who is 'she'?" He had a nasty feeling he already knew the answer.

"Suzie."

"What?" That drew everyone up short, except for Ianto, who swore silently, the reality of the hell Tosh and Owen had been in coming to true light.

And then Jack snapped out of his state of mind, rolling the 'other' Toshiko out of sight and closing the door to the compartment, "Gwen, Ianto, you're in charge. If things get dire, call in Rhys to help you, but don't put him in undue danger. Toshiko, can you still remember how to shoot a gun?"

The Torchwood team seamlessly melted into habit, leaving the Donna and a very angry Doctor in their wake, "Jack! You are not taking guns with you!" Toshiko had already moved away with Ianto, but Gwen hung back uncertainly as Jack whirled around.

"You knew what would happen if you came here for answers. You heard her – _this is all my fault!_ Now I am going to put things right, and if that means guns then I will damn well use them! Now, Toshiko knows the most about that place, so she has to come, you're too stubborn just to drop us off and I'll be damned if I'm not going, but you should leave Donna here." The firmness of Jack's voice left no room for debate as he strode off.

"I'm coming with you." Donna had appeared at the Doctor's side, an oddly comforting presence.

He shook his head, running a head through his hair, "No, no he's right, I can't take you back there. I can't be constantly worrying about you. Not there."

"I can take care of myself, sunshine, don't flatter yourself!" Donna bit back, but stopped when she saw his expression.

"Help these people if you need to, but I can't put you in a position like that. Please."

Half-heartedly, Donna gave one last protest, "What's the difference between me and those two?"

The Doctor let out a nervous sort of laugh, "Well, Jack can't die, and seeing as Tosh has died once already..." He let the sentence hang.

"Alright, fine." She huffed, and made to follow the Doctor when something hit her, "Wait, what do you mean he can't _die?_"

He smiled half-heartedly at his mouthy companion's comeback, but the thought of what he was about to do weighed heavily on the Doctor's mind. The very idea of going back to that place made his very being crawl, but it was his responsibility, and so to Death they would go.

To Be Continued...

Author Notes: So, what do you think?


	6. Chapter 6

Author Notes: Thank you for the feedback, I really appreciate it! This is both the longest and darkest chapter yet - hope you like it!

Chapter 6

They were watching again. He knew it. That feeling that creeps down the spine, twining its way round, an altogether detached sensation, one his mind could focus on, to escape from one to the other. But Suzie didn't like that. She had to be in control, the centre of attention. She hated the fact that in reality she was not in control, that she was only able to do what she did because of _their_ permission. Because they liked to watch.

In a way, that was somehow comforting. Suzie was not the be all and end all of his being in this hell. She did not have complete control. She could do what she wanted, but in truth she would never be all powerful. He held onto that thought, cherished it as his body was torn, wrenched inside out, dirt clinging to his skin and in his bones. He repeated it, over and over, as his mind desperately wished for tears on the days when she would not allow them to fall.

There was that familiar snap in the back of his mind, and he collapsed as his stunned brain was finally given back control. Instinctively, he curled his arms around his stomach, silent sobs shaking his thin frame. Then, as was the usual process, everything caught up, and he found himself retching emptily, that horrible jerking reaction as his tears became sickly sweet and meagre bile burnt his throat. It was only after this that he could fully return to himself and stagger unsteadily to his feet, dragging his pathetic excuses for clothes in a tight shroud around his body.

He refused to raise his eyes to meet her gaze, made worse by her obvious height advantage over him. Overly gentle fingertips grazed his cheek, and a mocking laugh rang through the room when he instinctively flinched away. "I would apologise for the length of our little rendezvous today, but we both know that would be a lie; I do _so _look forward to our time together. Just as good now as it was when we were both alive." Owen shivered again, his mind desperately trying to find one corner to retreat into and never come out again. Suzie reached towards his and began stroking her thumb across his cheek, "Aww, my poor baby. I had to be harsher today – you _know _that little stunt you pulled made them angry. Although I still marvel at how you made Toshiko disappear in a puff of smoke; pity I can't make your voice tell the truth as well as I can make it beg."

Owen didn't trust himself to respond – he was still trying to mentally hide. He was getting quite good at this, letting Suzie just wash over him. He was pretty sure somewhere down the line of his medical training he had learnt that patients who retreated into their own heads this much were not the definition of fine, but right now, it seemed like the best thing in the world. He vaguely recalled the rift people on Jack's island from a lifetime ago, and realised he could completely see where they were coming from.

Apparently Suzie had finally realised he had zoned out on her again, and she sighed, not in annoyance, but in a rather longsuffering way, as if he were a particularly difficult pet. She kissed him on the lips, an action he barely registered, but then she just left, closing the door behind her with a click, and within an instant all his nerves were on fire, a sick, panicky feeling rearing its way through his body as he began to hyperventilate. He was _never_ left alone in this room. He was never left alone _period_. He backed away from the door until he hit the opposing wall and slide down, wrapping his arms around his legs. His battered mind couldn't cope with change any more; he was much too far past that stage.

And then the door opened, and one of _them_ glided in. His breath hitched, and logically he knew he should be scared, but apparently that particular emotion had disappeared along with his ability to cope with new situations.

The white eyes raked over his wretched form, both unseeing, and insightful in more ways than would ever be comprehensible. Owen was hypnotised. White on white on white, with him a pathetic dirty blot in their world. And then he understood. He understood why they hated Jack, why Torchwood had to pay for it, why Suzie obeyed them.

So when he started screaming himself hoarse as the papery fingertips pressed into his temples, setting his nerves on fire, he knew that he deserved all that this place, and these beings, dealt his way.

* * *

Jack had recoiled with the heat as soon as he stepped out of the Tardis. The heat, and the sheer sense of _wrong_ that seemed to seep from the very walls. "Home sweet home." Tosh's haunting voice floated from behind him, and he exchanged a worried glance with the Doctor, whose face was set in grim lines.

"Hello Jack."

All three turned as one to see Suzie leaning casually against the wall. "How did you know we'd be here?" It was a valid question, and one the Doctor was very interested in knowing, his voice filling the void of silence that enshrouded the other two.

"Oh, just Owen. I couldn't find out the truth, but they could. They recognised his recall of your face. Apparently you're well known, you and that woman you were with. They knew how to track you."

"Who are they? Who are _you?_" The Doctor was clearly on edge.

"What does it matter? All you need to know is that you belong to them now. You may as well-"

They didn't find out how Suzie might have ended that sentence, as at that precise moment, Tosh had wrenched Jack's gun from the holster at his side, and planted a bullet directly through her forehead, with all the deadly accuracy that Torchwood taught. Immediately the Doctor leapt forwards, while Jack pulled the gun away. The Doctor grabbed the small woman by the shoulders, "Why did you do that? You didn't need to kill her! She's just as much a victim as the rest of you!"

Tosh's face twisted into a sneer, "Third time lucky."

It was enough to shock the Doctor into silence as she extracted herself from his grip. Jack looked just as disturbed as he did. As far as the Captain was concerned, this was Tosh; sweet, gentle, and definitely not as damaged as Jack.

It was never meant to turn out this way.

* * *

Something was wrong. They could all sense it. The white shadows flittered restlessly, agitated by something only they could comprehend. In the dark recesses of his mind, Owen felt like an observer in his own body, when in reality, Suzie was no where nearby. He was trapped within himself, unable to break open from the autopilot his body and outer being had been operating on for what seemed like an age, even though it had not been so long ago when Tosh had sat beside him.

He stopped fighting with himself. There really wasn't much point anymore. So when that wailing song rang through the walls for the second time, screaming an emergency, and _they _all glided off as one, he was too enveloped in darkness to care.

* * *

Once again, the Doctor found himself running, only this time it was towards the danger instead of back to the Tardis where it was safe. The three of them darted through the tunnels like rabbits caught in an ever-closing trap. Every once in a while, it would seem as if Toshiko knew where she was going, but whenever that thought crossed his mind, her erratic movements always seemed to prove him wrong.

That was until he heard the moaning.

At first, he thought it was just an undertone to the wailing alarm, but then he began to hear it properly. It had a different quality. It was _inside _him, rather than around him. The moaning was of hundreds of minds, trapped in themselves, unable to escape.

He jerked up short, skidding on the rocky ground, the realisation hitting him hard. Jack looked at him uncomprehendingly, while Toshiko just regarded him with a disturbing cool clarity, as if she knew what he could hear. "Doctor?" Jack's voice seemed to bounce off the walls, adding to the outward wailing, and the inward moaning.

"This way." It was all he could choke out without letting on what he was feeling, the only two words he could make seem calm and collected.

Now he knew the way, he realised Toshiko's movements had not been as erratic as he had suspected. But when they found what they were looking for, he almost wished they had gotten lost.

Rows upon rows of compounds, ten to twenty people in each. Jack could only stare in horror. He _knew_ these people. He had worked with them, they had been his friends, superiors, responsibilities. And they had all ended up here. After all he had seen in over a hundred years of living, after experiencing so many different centuries, this was the final dark secret. Because all of this had come out of him.

The Doctor's comforting hand on his arm was the only thing that kept him from screaming out in rage and pain. Toshiko felt none of this, and Jack used her slow, purposeful movements as a way to ground himself in the here and now. She had stopped at a compound, her fingers winding delicately around the dividing bars. She cast her cold eyes on the pair, "Open it. Now."

Obediently, they both moved towards her, the Doctor producing a sonic screwdriver and aiming it at the lock. He had almost expected it to be deadlock sealed, but apparently they hadn't been expecting intruders, as it swung open of its own accord.

Humming. One note, rising to a pitch as the torn throats created the sound, swaying to it, entranced by the noise of their own creation as it spread between the compounds. Jack blanched, whispers to the Doctor, "Why are they doing that?"

The Doctor's sad, old eyes did not meet with Jack's, "Because they know why I'm here."

Toshiko, meanwhile, had found what she had been looking for, "Owen?" She crouched down, placing her cool palms against either side of his face. She finally looked like she was going to lose it again, "Owen, please, it's me." Gently, she took one of his hands, swallowing back tears at the red raw, blistered skin, his own doing.

The Doctor remained where he was, unable to walk into the compound when he knew he could do nothing to help. Jack, however, had no such sense of what had to be done, as he too bent down next to the pair. His breath hitched at the state of the man he had thought to be dead. He was worse off that Tosh had been. Just as thin and damaged on the outside, but one look into his unblinking eyes was enough to know his mind had not been left as unscathed as hers had. _The kinder thing to do would have been to kill him. _Tosh's words rang round and round in his head. When she had uttered them, he had thought her to be under incredible emotional strain, but now he could understand why she had said it. The Doctor had said how Owen had been together enough to orchestrate an escape, to plead and plead until he had agreed to take Toshiko back with him, and Jack was willing to bet that once Owen had done that, he had just given up.

But then Tosh leant forwards, and for one moment, Jack expected her to kiss Owen, but of course, she was too smart for that. Instead, she rested her forehead against Owen's, and Jack realised for the first time that Owen alone wasn't humming with the rest. The pair seemed to close their eyes in unison, before opening them again. Tosh smiled a false smile, "Time to go."

Jack would never understand how she had done it, but somehow, Owen was on his feet, unsteady, but certainly more able than the rest of the people who watched them steadily, unmoving from their personal hell. Of course, he had missed the glances of understanding between the Doctor and Tosh, just as he had missed the too-bright flickering of Owen's eyes; maybe he just hadn't wanted to see. So when they were running again, Jack had honestly thought they were running back to the Tardis. And in a way they were, just not in the manner Jack had presumed.

* * *

It was a strange turn of events, and one Owen could honestly not have predicted. Nevertheless, he had easily accepted Toshiko's return, along with Jack's, and the strange man. If he was going to hallucinate, then this was definitely one of the preferred manifestations. After all, he knew Tosh was safe, because he had gotten her out, just like he had promised himself, so her being here wasn't really so bad, because it wasn't actually her.

He knew what he had to do, and in a way, it was nice that he wouldn't have to do it alone, even if his only company were figments of his imagination. He could even feel Tosh's fingers interlaced with his own as they ran.

Fake-Jack halted in front of them. They were back. The room seemed more...ordinary than he remembered it. It seemed like an age since he was encased in a new puppet body in this very room. Maybe it was; he had lost all sense of time. There wasn't any need to count anymore, now Tosh was gone. It could have been ten years ago since she had left. Not that he especially felt the need to know.

The strange man moved forwards, producing that strange buzzing object that apparently did more than unlock cell doors. He was analysing wires, snapping at Jack to help him, giving a running, frantic commentary of what they needed to do.

Owen didn't move. He just stood there, arm around Toshiko's waist as her arm linked around him. In reality, he knew it was actually him doing all those things, that he was actually alone, but it really was very considerate of the hallucinations to just let him stand here and pretend. And when Toshiko murmured that Suzie was dead, that she had killed her, once and for all, Owen had smiled at the Not-Tosh, grateful for the lie, because he knew they were coming, he knew it was almost at an end.

The strange man spoke for him when_ they_ came, just because he didn't think he could speak when they were so close. He asked them questions, as if he were the most powerful being in the universe, and allowed to ask such questions, to make such demands and threats. They didn't answer of course, silent in their response, refusing to justify their actions to him, denying the plausibility of his threats. They had every right to do so, of course. All they had to do would be to point, and he would fall limp as a rag doll, the kind hallucinations dispelled with the shattering of false reality which his mind had courteously created.

But they did not disappear. Even after _they_ looked at him and Tosh, both insignificant in the grand scheme of things, even after the pair of them fell in a heap, their legs no longer under their command.

The floor seemed to shake, hot dust swirling in eddies around them. Fake-Jack was yelling something, and loud short cracks sang through the air as the beings began to fall one by one.

None of it mattered.

Tears mingled with a smile across Not-Tosh's dirt smudged face, and Owen smiled in return. It was nice of her to stay around.

Fake-Jack was fighting with the strange man, screaming, his words lost in the noise of breaking earth and the darkness in Owen's mind.

And then the strange man was off running, and Fake-Jack had slid down to sit with Owen and Tosh, both of whom still couldn't move their legs. He was crying, which for some reason didn't seem like a strange thing for a hallucination of Jack to do.

The Not-Tosh buried her face into Owen's neck as the ceiling crumbled, while Fake-Jack enveloped them both with his arms, using his own body to shield their much smaller forms from the debris.

Owen forced his eyes open, and smiled at Not-Tosh, who raised her head slightly and one last time smiled softly in return.

An ear-splitting shriek rose up amongst them as the wrong-place gave one final cry.

And all that was left was darkness and the stars.

To Be Continued...

Author Notes: I wrestled with myself as to whether to end it here. My beta chemicalnova pointed out how utterly depressing that would be, so you can thank her for the coming real final chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one though!


	7. Chapter 7

Author Notes: Thanks for all the support from everyone. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint, although I warn you, as my standards go, this is mush-central :P

Mild spoilers for Doctor Who's season 4 finale. I wrote this before it was announced Freema wouldn't be reprising her role of Martha next season, despite the earlier suggestions.

Chapter 7

Six long, hard months. Had it really been that long ago? Jack supposed it had. After all, the stars had died and come back to life in that time, Earth had once more almost been wiped from existence, this time along with the rest of the universe. And not only that, Jack's team was once more complete with the new additions of Doctor Martha Jones and Mickey the Idiot. Jack would have to concede he wasn't quite the idiot that they all made him out to be, but never to his face.

Ianto was once more setting a coffee on his boss' desk, but this time, there was no distance between them, no residual animosity. The pieces were being picked up and put back together, at least for his team, and in the end, that was all that mattered to Jack.

But that didn't stop him from remembering. That one shuddering breath back into the world of the living had been one of his worst as he had blinked his way back into his body to feel the floor of the Tardis hum beneath him and see the grim face of the Doctor bending over him.

He had been pulled out of the vacuum of space, and how his body had survived that explosion he would never know. Apparently he truly just was not meant to die. Of course, he had suspected at the time, but it had taken a few choice phrases to actually get the Doctor to abandon him, to let him die with his friends, even if it wasn't permanent.

Even though he knew that true death was a far better outcome for his friends over the centuries than staying in that hell, he still couldn't wipe the unsettling feeling from his mind. Perhaps it was the memory of Owen's eyes, so unlike the man he had known, or Toshiko's voice, too cold to be hers; both had been twisted, both had been undeserving of their fate. All of them had, and almost selfishly, Jack was glad he had not been there long enough to truly see the people all his friends had become.

"Jack!" Martha's clear, strong voice rang up from the main Hub, "I've got Gwen on the line. Apparently it was more than one Weevil – she's had to take Mickey to the hospital."

The word 'hospital' rang a very bad tone in Torchwood, and Jack and Ianto exchanged worried looks as Jack grabbed his coat and Ianto promised to keep things running smoothly while they were gone, "One day, that boy is going to go on an assignment and come back the way he left. How bad is it?"

Martha smiled wryly, "Not too serious from what I can make out; I think Gwen just panicked after last week."

Jack nodded in agreement. Last week had been the first time since his brother and Captain Hart's little incursion when they had almost lost everything again. Of course there had been the big incident with Davros, but the Doctor had been there, and somehow that always made it seem that bit better. They had almost lost Ianto – for a whole hour they had actually thought him to be dead, and it was one of the worst hours of Jack's considerably long life. Thankfully, it had all been an elaborate ruse on the part of the Nasty, and the team had been able to stick together, but Jack knew how the supposed loss of yet another one of her original team members would spur Gwen into overprotective mother-hen mode for at least another month. "Let's go rescue Mickey from her clutches then shall we? Don't throw any big parties while we're away, Ianto! You know I don't like to miss out."

"Wouldn't dream of it, sir." Ianto's dry reply floated after them.

* * *

Gwen paced the sterile halls, frantically awaiting the verdict. After what seemed like an age, Mickey finally emerged, clutching his side but seeming otherwise none the worse for wear. "You're walking!" Gwen squawked when she saw him, "Shouldn't you be in a hospital bed or something?"

"Doc says I'll be fine. Just needed a few stitches. Martha can take another look at it when we get back to the Hub."

"She and Jack are already on their way here, and don't give me that look Mickey Smith! I know your version of 'fine'!"

Mickey only barely managed to reign in a grin, holding his palms up to her in a placating gesture, "I know, Gwen. But I promise, I'm fine. It'll take more than a few stitches before Jack can get rid of me."

"Well, I think we'll just check with this 'doctor', shall we? You sure they're qualified?" Gwen pushed past him, and Mickey threw his hands up in defeat as Jack and Martha approached them.

"Will you talk to her? She's completely lost it!" Mickey turned to Martha, pleading.

"Well, maybe if you didn't get yourself into situations like this once a week, she might not react as badly." Jack pointed out with a smirk.

Nevertheless, he followed Gwen in, with Martha and an incredibly embarrassed Mickey trailing after him. True to form, Gwen was giving the young intern a proper grilling, only receiving unsure stammers in return.

But then her rant was cut short by a rueful voice approaching them from behind, "Well, maybe if Torchwood took better care of its employees they wouldn't end up here so often. The amount of accident forms you sign must be off the scale – bet the Government loves you."

Everyone froze at the familiar tone, all except Mickey, who had clearly already met the man and saw nothing to be surprised about.

Owen Harper was standing, leaning against the doorframe in the white coat of a Llandough Hospital doctor, arms folded, a mocking smile gracing his face. "Oh my God." Gwen couldn't form words, she just stared, until she finally broke free of her trance and made to step forwards, only to have Jack hold her back. He shot Martha an unspoken order, and the doctor nodded, forcibly removing her two colleagues from the room; Gwen was only so compliant from the shock.

Jack stood there, watching the smaller man regard him with clear eyes, completely unfazed, "Robert, they need you down in A&E." Owen nodded to the young doctor, who seemed relieved to get away from the tension. When it appeared Jack was going nowhere, Owen shrugged, and began gathering together some forms, handing it to Jack, "Have fun with that, and hand them into the front desk on your way out. Even Torchwood has to do paperwork. Your guy will be fine; I've heard you have a doctor on staff, so just get them to check him over every so often, and the stitches should dissolve once they've done their bit."

Jack still couldn't form a sentence, only able to follow Owen with an unwavering gaze. Finally, the doctor seemed to get annoyed, "Look mate, just try and keep yourselves out of here for a while, yeah? You lot are creepy enough as it is. Now, if you excuse me, people to save, nurses to annoy."

Owen made to push past Jack, an act that finally triggered a response, causing Jack to reach out and grab his arm. The doctor froze, but didn't react any other way, just looked at Jack, and then pointedly at his arm. Jack grinned disarmingly, letting go, "I didn't catch your name?"

"Doctor Owen Harper."

* * *

"Jack! Jack will you just stop! Jack!" Gwen yelled after him as they entered the Hub. She hadn't stopped since he had forced her to leave the hospital without Owen.

He turned around, "What? What would you have me do, Gwen? He didn't know us!"

"But it was him! You said so yourself, he had the same name! I don't know how, Jack, but that was Owen, we have to go back!"

Ianto emerged, sidling up to Jack and resting a hand on his shoulder. Martha had called ahead to explain what had happened, "Sir. You're going to want to take a look at this."

Ianto's voice was the quietest, and yet, it cut through all the tension. He led them over to Mickey's workstation, the one that had once belonged to Tosh. On the screen was a personnel profile from the hospital; Owen's. "According to this, Owen Harper was never a member of Torchwood. He spent most of his medical career in various London hospitals, until approximately six months ago, when he transferred here."

"That doesn't make any sense." Martha frowned, bending to look at the screen.

"That's not all." Ianto pulled up another screen, "Alex Ford, exemplary member of the British Armed Forces, posted all over, until in February 2000, he took up tenure at the base here. Mary Wiseman, medic from Oxford, transferred here, also February 2000. There are three more with the same date, all Torchwood personnel, all killed by Torchwood Three's officer Alex Ford on the turn of the Millennium. I've already started going back further, sir. All of them, one month after their recorded day of death at Torchwood, moved from their lives all around the country to take up a position in Cardiff."

"One month?" Gwen asked, "Why one month?"

Jack sighed, "Because it was one month after Owen and Tosh died that we destroyed that place."

After that realisation, the only thing on Torchwood's mind was to find out the truth. They kept going backwards, as far as records would allow, accounting for almost all of Torchwood Three's personnel since Jack had joined them. Suzie was nowhere to be found; Jack suspected it was because she was shot beforehand, and decided not to dwell too much. Unfortunately, also amongst the small number they couldn't account for was Toshiko, and it was driving Gwen mad. It had been over a week now, and she as juggling visiting Owen at the hospital without him noticing – and without Jack's permission – and desperately searching for any sign of Tosh's continued survival.

Jack, on the other hand, had taken a rather different approach, and it was this rather cool, distant reaction of his that spurred Martha to finally confront him. Jack smiled weakly, "I just can't figure it out. I mean, they _died_."

"It's not like that's ever stopped you, Jack." Martha commented as she sat on the other side of his desk.

Jack laughed humourlessly, "Very true. It's just, this shouldn't be possible. They were obviously sent back via the Rift. I don't know – maybe because I was there? I mean, I was the reason that damned planet existed in the first place. But then, they clearly don't remember Torchwood. It's like they've just taken up on the lives they would have had, all converging on the Rift." He pinched the bridge of his nose, "The Doctor would know."

"Yes, he would." Martha conceded, "But he's not here, is he? You need to stop wondering, and start acting."

"Is that an order, Doctor Jones?" Jack raised an eyebrow at her.

"No." She rose, smiling softly, "Just a friend's advice. And here's another piece – talk to Gwen."

A knock on his doorframe drew their attention. Jack pulled on a grin, "Speak and she shall appear!"

Gwen's smile was lighting up her whole face, "Jack, Ianto's found Tosh!"

She didn't leave any time to explain, only turning and running down the steps, grabbing her coat on the way. Jack exchanged a bewildered look with Martha before setting off at a run after her. Mickey folded his arms, "You think this means they'll finally let go?"

Martha smiled as she came down to stand beside him, "Hopefully."

* * *

"So, you gonna tell me where we're going?" Jack swung himself into the SUV next to Gwen just before she sped off.

"Llandough Hospital. Ianto's there."

"Wait, I thought that's where Owen is. We don't need to go there Gwen, he doesn't know us. I'd like to keep it that way."

Gwen threw her boss a dirty look. In her heart, she knew Owen deserved a second chance at a life without Torchwood, but that didn't stop her from knowing how the man they had lost three times over was so close, and yet might as well be a million miles away.

The drive was not a long one, especially at the speeds Gwen was taking them. So much for being a responsible driver. They got out onto Cardiff's rainy dark streets. It was winter, and so the night had drawn in long ago. Ianto was standing, leaning against a concrete bollard. He smiled as they approached. "So, Ianto, wanna let us in on your mysterious discovery?"

The quiet Welshman shrugged, "Owen's coming off his shift."

"I still don't see..." Gwen trailed off. A couple had emerged from the lit up revolving doors of the hospital. The man had his arm around the woman's waist as he hoisted his backpack over one shoulder. She was chattering away to him, too far away from them to make out the exact words, and he was smiling in response, despite an obviously tiring last shift.

Ianto's smile widened, "Owen and Toshiko Harper. Newly married as of three weeks ago. They met six months ago at the hospital when Tosh was being treated for a broken arm which she couldn't remember getting, and Owen, being the professional he is, asked her out on a date. Friends and family describe their relationship as whirlwind, as if they've known each other for_ years_ rather than months." He stressed his voice in the way only Ianto could.

"They got married." Jack stated the obvious, "Well I'll be...she changed her name!" Both he and Gwen seemed to be shocked into paralysis.

Ianto cleared his throat, "If that will be all, sir, I'll be getting back to the Hub. Paperwork won't file itself."

Jack nodded, grinning, spontaneously throwing an arm around Ianto as they walked back towards one of the parked SUVs. Gwen followed, finally able to let it rest.

Because it was true. However much they might dearly love to be a part of their friends' new lives, they knew Owen and Tosh were better off as they were. By far safer, and most definitely happier.

Death had tried to cheat against the Life it had so hated.

But that Life had come right around and hit Death in the face.

And when that rarest of occurrences happens, to Torchwood of all the unluckiest of people, who was Jack to deny it?

**FIN**

Author Notes: All done! Complete mush, but after the depressiveness of the rest of the story, I thought the characters (and you!) deserved a break. I'd love to hear your final thoughts, and thanks again for reading!


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